


The Winner Takes It All

by swbooker



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Affairs, Angst and Porn, BAMF Roy Mustang, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, How Do I Tag, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I have no idea how to describe this story, I swear its not doom and gloom, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:05:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swbooker/pseuds/swbooker
Summary: Edward planned to marry Winry. He didn't plan for Roy Mustang.That was his first mistake.





	1. The Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> > _"I was in your arms, thinking I belonged there / I figured it made sense, building me a fence / building me a home, thinking I'd be strong there / but I was a fool, playing by the rules."_
> 
> Yes, as a matter of fact, I do love ABBA.

Chapter One

Edward Elric stood shirtless, hunched over a pile of wood. He raised his axe and _heaved -_ and the sound of wood breaking shattered the slow, sluggish pace of the afternoon. It was a Tuesday, which were usually very slow by Edward's standards, and so today he had resorted to making his own fun. Again, he lifted his axe, muscles flexing under his skin, and then suddenly his shoulder kinked, automail tugging too harshly on his tendons. Edward hissed through his teeth, then straightened up to roll out his back.

It was a hot day, perhaps the hottest of the year. The sun was scathing; it beat down, a sweltering kind of heat that made Ed's automail burn, sweat bunching at his armpits. He knew he shouldn't be outside but he was too restless to stay indoors all day. Being in-between jobs meant he had little else to do but continue his research into electrical arrays, and he was still awaiting an important letter from Al on that one.

So, he had resigned himself to chopping wood in front of the house. His dog, Churro, sat panting a few feet from him.

Edward glanced at her and gave a great exhale, hand raising to rub sweat from his brow. "It's hot, huh?" he muttered, and Churro's ears twitched as though she were listening. "Should probably get you outta this sun..."

In truth, it was not only to sun that was bothering Edward (even if the scent of burning asphalt accompanied it), it was the reporter he knew that was not twenty paces away, hiding in the bushes. This whole display would be in the news tomorrow, Ed knew: "Fullmetal Alchemist Chops Wood on Hottest Day of the Year!" What a title. (There'd probably be a some sort of sexual play-on-words thrown in, too.)

Edward was often big news, despite the four years it had been since he had given up his State Alchemist title. He'd tried to keep Winry out of it but it was hard; the buggers were crafty and Ed didn't have eyes in the back of his head, as much as he'd like to think he did. Once he and Winry had gotten engaged, that had been it: Winry had been hounded, and researched for near-enough a month.  Everyone was trying to get the biggest scoop, then the next scoop, then the next and the next. Edward had worried it would be too much for her, that she would break off the engagement, but once he'd seen one of her wrenches hit some poor sod in the head he remembered exactly why he had picked her for his wife.

"Edward?"

Speak of the devil. Edward turned to face the house, lips pulling up into a lazy smile. Yes, there she was, her voice soft, silhouette even softer. Winry was a marvel, loved by so many, and wanted by many more.

Edward was lucky to have her.

"Winry," he said with surprise. He quickly tugged his arm down which, he had only just realised, had been grabbing at his sore shoulder. "I thought you were sleeping."

It was scary how she looked at him; narrowed eyes, a twist to her full hips, lips puckered... but eyes full of love. "What are you doing? It's 31° out here! Where is your shirt?!"

"Uh." On the floor, Ed thought, discreetly using his foot to pull it out of her view. "I took it off. You know."

" _No_ , I  _don't_ know!" Winry huffed. "Your automail's going to get so hot, you'll get third degree burns, Ed! Are you stupid?!"

And Edward gave a devilish smile. "Don't think you want me to answer that."

"You bloody..." Winry muttered under her breath and Edward's smile grew, hearing something about what she'd do to him if she wasn't so tired. "Come inside. I'll sort out your automail and we'll have a drink. I made lemonade," and she finally smiled, "and some pie, if you want some."

Looking at Churro, Edward sighed and nodded, looking thankfully back at his fiance. "Yeah. Thanks, Win."

Winry blushed. "Whatever. Come on, then, we don't have all day." And she turned and went inside without him.

They lived in a fairly big house - Edward received quite a few benefits from being in the army, and more still for being loved throughout the country - with three bedrooms, one of which was reservedly Alphonse's. While they'd never discussed what the last bedroom was for, they both knew; Winry had never been shy about the fact she wanted a family of her own, and Edward wouldn't mind one, either. He'd give her anything if it made her happy. It's why they had a dog - it's why that dog was called _Churro_ , of all things...

"Come on, girl," said Ed, and Churro yawned as she stood. "Let's hose you down and get a drink." 

Winry was in the kitchen when Ed finally got to her, sitting at the table with two glasses of lemonade. When she saw him, she smiled, pulling her hair in front of her; then she saw Churro following him, who was soaked and dripping from head to toe.

" _Edward_ ," Winry said, true exasperation in her voice. "How many times? Wet dogs stay _outside_."

Edward grinned sharply. "Thought you wanted me to drink some lemonade?"

"Not you, you _utter_ -!" She threw a spoon at him and Ed ducked, laughing merrily.

"Come on, Win, it's boiling out there. We can't leave Churro outside all day." Edward took a seat and stuck his feet up on the table. "Besides, _you_ wanted her."

Winry couldn't help but laugh. "Idiot. Not that excuse again. That dog follows you around more than me."

"She knows who pays for the food," Ed joked, and just about missed another well-thrown spoon.

Of course, it wasn't true. Edward had money, sure, and lots of it; he'd been generously paid as a State Alchemist and still was as a military contractor but it was Winry that worked hard these days, running her automail business. Some days, she worked well into the night to the point she slept during the day, just as she had that morning (and just as she used to for Ed, back when he was destroying his automail every other week). 

Edward was happy that she had her own business and that it was so successful; it's everything she had ever wanted, and everything he had ever wanted  _for_ her. Heck, Edward was the one to buy the shop; instead of a ring, he'd thought Winry would prefer a more personal touch and bought her an empty lot just down the road from their house, and proposed to her with it. Winry had cried, of course, and then blamed it on not having a ring.

Edward shook his head fondly as he remembered. Winry would never change.

"Here." Winry pushed a glass of lemonade his way, looking so sweet and bed-trodden that Edward had to smother a smile. "Lemonade. As promised."

"And the pie...?"

Winry pushed a bowl his way, then blushed when he asked for a spoon. "Idiot," she muttered, "I threw it at you... didn't catch it... stop making stupid remarks..."

And suddenly Edward was laughing  and laughing. When he began to calm down, Churro approached him with a spoon in her mouth, and it started him up all over again.

"You're too good at playing fetch, girl," he said once he'd stopped, and took it gently from her mouth. He felt too hot and too achy - but unconditionally loved.

* * *

Edward was in the paper the next morning, in all his shirtless glory; Winry had gone to fetch a couple of croissants for breakfast and had returned with one in her mouth, another on a plate, and the paper tucked under her arm. As always, she looked beautiful in her nightgown, which was a soft blue colour with lace trimmings around the bottom, which only just touched her mid-thigh. In the golden haze of the early morning sun, her creamy skin shone and her long, buttery hair looked glossy, falling just so over her shoulder.

It would be a lie to say that was what Edward loved most about her, though; what he loved most was the way she walked, half-asleep, and the way her face rested as she held that croissant between her teeth.

She was joy.

"Anything interesting this morning?" Edward asked, accepting the plate she proffered him.

Winry pulled the croissant from her mouth, chewing on the end she ripped off. "Yes, actually," she said gently. "Your naked torso is hot topic."

Edward frowned. "Not front page news again, is it?"

"Not quite." Winry smiled. "Another handsome man got that spot."

"Eh?"

Edward took the paper from Winry, unfolded it violently with one hand, then felt suddenly like he couldn't breathe. His picture _was_ on the front page; just at the bottom, in the left hand corner, with a little notation of, ' _See more on page 4_ ,' written beneath his shirtless picture. It wasn't the worst he'd ever seen; in fact, it didn't even bother him, thinking that some old fart was probably going to get a few good giggles out of it. No, what bothered him was the dark face that dominated the front page, punctuated by an open military uniform, abs and pale skin on display for everyone to see.

" _General Roy Mustang_ ," the caption read, " _fighting the copy-cat murderer, the Chopper."_

Something about the picture made Edward feel frightfully sick. Roy looked calm but his face was shadowed by anger, and it reminded him of all those years ago, where Roy had almost sold his soul to gain vengeance upon Envy for the murder of Maes Hughes.

Edward kept reading.

_"Just last week, reports of a seven-year-old girl and her mother falling victim to this villain came to light. The pair are said to be the only ones to survive the Chopper's hand; full details have not yet been disclosed about the duo but it has been revealed they were kidnapped and moved to a different location before..._ " Edward skimmed through the details. " _Names, in respect of the victims, have not yet been disclosed."_

"Edward? Are you okay?"

Edward hadn't realised it, but his hands had started shaking. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. The look in Roy's eyes was worrying but it held no candle to the pure murder he had worn when fighting Envy, so Edward tried not to worry. He understood why Roy would be so angry if this  _sicko_ had gone after a seven-year-old girl.

"Yes, sorry." Edward looked up at Winry and felt himself relax. "I was just..."

Winry's lips pursed. "Not thinking about rejoining the military?"

"No," said Ed, quickly.

"Hm." Suddenly, her look turned playful, and she pushed the newspaper off Ed's lap (as well as his half-eaten croissant). "Well, maybe I can remind you of exactly why you shouldn't rejoin... Should you lose something like this..."

Winry raised one soft, slender leg and put it over him, her other resting at Edward's other side. She was mounting him; her little nightgown had risen so high her arse was showing, and Edward's hand immediately shot out to it, feeling the smooth, supple curve with glee.

"Well, Edward?" Winry raised one, fine eyebrow, her look suddenly playful. "Would you like a good morning?"

Edward's eyes flickered from her face - pink in the cheeks as she was - to her breasts, which rose and fell with her suddenly heavy breathing. Edward knew that if he kissed her neck, she'd make the most beautiful noise; and if he pushed his hands up her thighs, he'd reach her knickers, which were probably already damp if the way she was looking at him was any indication...

"Fuck, Winry," he said, and before she could say anything, flipped them so he was on top. "You've got to work..."

"We'll be quick," she breathed, eyes sparkling, breaths coming shorter. "Please, Ed, I  _want_ it."

Edward gave a quick smile. "Don't gotta ask me twice," he said, and kissed her so hard, her lips would be red and puffy for hours afterwards, in just the way he liked.

Winry had been surprisingly sexual; Edward had had his share of experiences before he asked Winry to be his girlfriend and so he had expected her to be somewhat virginal, but she had taken his breath away with her passion (and stamina). She'd known what she was doing, and she knew what she was doing now when she began pulling off his underwear; when she gasped and sighed as he shoved her nightdress up with rough hands; when she moaned, and her legs shook, as Edward bent down and took her clitoris into his mouth.

"Ed-Edward," she breathed, her thighs tightening around his head. She'd told him, once, that the look of his strong shoulders while he fucked her with his mouth was what  _really_ made her like oral sex. It was a sight she couldn't refuse. "Edward,  _please.._. _"_

Edward swirled his tongue around her clitoris, hands gripping at her thighs so hard it would bruise, and then looked up. "You're impatient today," he said, and licked his lips. "And you're already so wet. My picture do something for you, did it?"

"Yes, okay!" Winry squirmed, her neck flushed with arousal. She went to touch herself and Edward swatted her hands away, smirking. "Ed, _please_. Just... use lube... just..."

"Fucking hell, Winry, all right..." God, she was impatient - and,  _God,_ she was sexy. Sometimes Ed didn't know how he breathed without kissing her. "You sure?"

"Edward, for  _God's sake-_ "

He slid inside her without warning, and she almost hiccuped because she inhaled so quickly. In the time it took for him to lube up and enter her, she had been busy squirming on the bed, looking desperate and like a goddess at the same time, complaining he wasn't giving her what she needed.

Well, he'd give it now, hard, just like she wanted. 

"Oh, fuck, Edward-"

Another thing: Winry had the potty mouth of a Briggs soldier when she was horny, and it pleased Ed more than he could say, to hear her sweet voice say such dirty things.

" _Fuck_ , Edward-!"

Edward gave a hard thrust, sweat beading on his brow, insides tightening pleasurably when Winry moaned out loud. Another thrust, then another, getting faster and harder with each time - he'd had fun teasing her but  _fuck_ , it felt too good - he felt himself moaning involuntarily, breaths coming out shorter. He loved having her like this; on her back, legs in the air, hair a tangled mess over the pillows, face flushed with arousal. He could only imagine what he looked like, metal arm shining, sweat running down his back, hair falling in his face as his hips drove forward.

Edward knew what Winry liked, and he gave it; a few good thrusts at just the right angle, a cheeky bite of her left nipple. Winry moaned louder, her body shaking, then suddenly called his name and gave one last, long cry of ecstasy before turning limp, her eyes closing, breaths coming out shorter. Edward came just at the sight of it, his own legs shaking as he did.

"God, Winry," he whispered, once he'd collapsed on top of her. "What do you do to me?"

"I should be asking you that question," she whispered back.

He felt his love for her then, deep inside, a little flutter of warmth that he would hold there forever. He loved her more the longer he held her, for not once she did complain that he was sweaty, and gross, and _could he go shower please_... She loved him, in all capacities, and Edward was so grateful for the acceptance. For the normalcy.

"I love you, Edward," Winry said softly.

Edward swallowed. "I love you too, Win."

And he really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess... I've never actually written straight porn before. Apparently I specialise in gay, gay and more gay. Who'da thunk.
> 
> For this reason, I hope it was OK. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a kudos and a comment if you liked it because, honestly, it really does help. No matter what nonsensical drabble you write. :)


	2. The Flame Alchemist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So:  
> I don't have a beta reader. For this reason there may be quite a few omissions dotted around, some dodgy punctuation, and just general errors. I do what I can when I proof read but just be aware. :)

Chapter Two

Edward received his much-awaited letter from Alphonse a few days after the hottest day of the year and ripped it open with glee. Winry had already left for work and Edward had sat at the table, contemplating what to do with his day, when Alphonse's letter arrived. It read well - as though Alphonse was happy. He found himself smiling with each new word he read.

_Mei's parents are sure we're going to be betrothed by her 18th birthday, and may I repeat how uncomfortable that makes me? When we first met she was just a little girl, I can't imagine engaging in all these marital rituals her parents are talking about!_

Familiar with such rituals, Ed snorted, thinking about how mortified Alphonse would be while engaging in some of then. In particular, he thought of the end-of-night marital ceremony, where someone watched the bride and groom engage in sex in order to confirm it had been consummated. Of course, it usually only happened between people of higher stature, so none of the less fortunate clans would have anything to do with such rituals. Mei, however, being a princess, would certainly have to undergo all of them.

_Ling keeps asking for you. I think he misses you, Brother. I know something happened between you all those years ago, even if you won't share it with me, but rest assured he remembers, and he's sorry._

Edward snorted again, this time in anger. He hated thinking back to those days. Ling was a much better friend than a romantic partner - well, as romantic as no-strings-attached sex got.

_I've attached some research into the electrical arrays to the back of this letter, following the questions you sent. You were right: there are better resources here for those sorts of needs, so should you came up short again, just let me know. I know postage is slow but I'll do the best I can._

_I love you, Brother. See you soon._

_Best wishes,_

_Your brother, Al._

As relieved as he was to hear back from Al, and to find the alchemical notes attached to the back of the letter as promised, Edward felt oddly empty once he'd finished reading. He was happy that Alphonse had found a place in Xing, surrounded by culture, good food and mountains of research, but sometimes he just got so lonely without him...

Churro was there, all of a sudden, nuzzling at his hand with her wet nose. Edward laughed and gave her a pat. "Always have you, don't I?" he said, feeling a bit brighter. "Guess I should get started with these notes-"

The phone rang. Edward sighed (because it was just his luck) and gave Churro one last pat before heading to answer the call. They had only one phone in the house and it was in the study because Edward hated the damn things (especially because Havoc had taken to ringing him at stupid times of night just to piss him off).

"What the fuck do you want?" Edward asked, lazily, staring down at the floor. "I was about to make history."

"Well, well, well," came the smooth voice from the other end of the line, "I'm glad to hear you think so highly of yourself."

Edward, admittedly, was a bit taken aback. "Mustang?" he said. He hadn't heard from the General since his contract ended. The only thing he'd seen of him had been... "Uh," Ed tried not to think of the newspaper, "Why're you ringing me?"

"I have a new contract for you, if you're interested," the General said. His voice was slightly muffled. "I also have some delicate information that I need to share with you in regards to my latest frolics in the newspaper."

Eyes closed, Edward thought back to that dark look in Mustang's eyes and tried to swallow around his suddenly parched throat. "Yeah," he said, and coughed to clear his throat because he sounded crackly. "Yeah, okay. When'd you want me?"

"As soon as possible, if you are able. I have a busy afternoon but I am just doing some basic paperwork up until 10:00-"

"You  _bastard_ , it's 9:30 now!"

"Well then, Fullmetal," and Mustang's voice was  _so fucking smug_ , "you had better get a move on. I'll see you in ten minutes."

Edward felt a vein jump in his forehead. " _It's already half nine and it takes me twenty minutes to walk to you, you absolute_ -"

"Yes, yes," said Mustang. "All right. I'll change some things around. Take your time; I'll see you when you get here. Better?" he asked.

"Better," agreed Edward begrudgingly. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

Well, shit, thought Edward. Now he had to shower and put his hair up and shove on some actual clothes...

Churro whined, and Edward stroked her nose, sighing. "Yeah, me too," he said.

Sometimes, Winry was so busy with work that Churro was the only reprieve Edward got from his thoughts. He didn't mind that Winry was so busy; normally, he would be busy too, but he had recently finished his civilian work for the military and hadn't been able to make progress with his own research until he had heard back from Alphonse, so he'd not been doing a lot (and the house got very quiet, very quickly). Even after four years, he hadn't gotten used to not having Alphonse next to him all the time, in that big hunk of armour. Oh, no, Edward didn't miss the armour; but he missed the obviousness of another person being there.

It had been a long time since Alphonse had stood at his side. He had a life for himself in Xing, now, and Edward... Edward had a life of his own, too.

Stepping under the shower, Edward closed his eyes, trying not to think about how much his missed his brother. He liked the burning of the water; he'd cranked it all the way up to _ouch_ levels of hot, partly because it soothed him and partly because it distracted him. He loved it when the water burned trails down his back; how it felt over his face, his closed eyes. It made him relax. Helped him forget about all the shit he had to put up with. Winry liked her showers cold, so whenever they had to shower together, Ed always felt a bit put-out. She always made up for it, though, with her soapy thighs and warm kisses...

Edward's head came forward, hitting the tiled wall. "I hope this contract Mustang's got is something good," he mumbled to himself. He sighed to try and relieve tension in his shoulders, then grabbed the soap to rub himself clean, resigning himself to what was probably going to a very tough conversation.

Edward didn't want to hear about the poor little girl that had been the target of a copy-cat killer - but, somewhere deep down, he knew he needed to.

Even without alchemy, he was still the Fullmetal Alchemist. And he was damn proud to help the people.

* * *

Hawkeye was sat at her desk as always when Edward entered, his heavy boots thumping on the stone floor. He'd pulled on a pair of trousers that Winry liked and a plain tank top because it was boiling and he didn't care what remarks people would make.

"Ten o'clock on the dot, Edward," said Hawkeye, her smile as slight as the warmth in her voice. "I am sure the General will be impressed."

Edward rolled his eyes. Like he really cared what  _Roy Mustang_ thought. "What can I say," he said sarcastically, "that's what I'm here for."

Hawkeye's eyebrow raised. "Quite," she said. "Go on in. He's not busy." 

"Was gonna anyway."

"Of course you were," agreed Hawkeye, and turned back to her work.

Edward didn't bother knocking, as always, and simply pushed the door open, letting it fall shut again behind him. Mustang's new office was impressive; as a General, he was afforded such luxuries but also much more strenuous jobs. Edward didn't envy him but he at least believed the bastard actually did some work now. He couldn't say the same when he was still a Colonel.

Mustang had been a good mentor to Edward while Ed was in the military, although he didn't like to admit it. They were even something like friends, now, going out for a drink every now and then. Edward didn't hate him anymore; it was too exhausting. They'd come to an understanding, of sorts, even if Mustang used every opportunity he could to invite Edward back into the military.

 _No chance,_ thought Ed with a snort.  _The hell I witnessed..._

He hated to think what would happen if he went back. First of, Winry would be outraged and extremely upset; Edward had always said he wouldn't rejoin because Winry would be worrying constantly over him (like in the old days). Secondly, Alphonse would probably be tempted to come home from Xing just to support Edward through his missions, and Ed didn't want to take Alphonse's happiness from him. Most of all, though, Edward hated to think about the things he would see.

The Ishvalan War of Extermination was an unimaginable pain to think about, let alone remember. Were Ed to see such things,  _do_ such things, he was sure it would be the end of him.

He'd already brought enough pain into this world, even if it was his own.

"General," said Edward, focusing his thoughts back into the now.

General Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist and probable Fuhrer of Amestris, was sat behind his large, mahogany desk, feet on the table, head hanging back, eyes closed... Not doing any work at all. It figured, Ed thought, that he should still be so lazy. Or maybe he had already finished his work?

Oh, Ed didn't care. The man looked ridiculous.

Edward cleared his throat. "General," he said again, louder this time.

Mustang's foot twitched, his head lolled forward and he glanced at Edward from the corner of his eye. "Edward," he said. "You're here. Excellent."

"Yeah, well..." Edward stomped forward, trying to look annoyed. "You told me to be. So."

"Yes. I did, didn't I?" Mustang laughed. "I'm not you're superior officer anymore though, am I?"

Edward stared hard into Mustang's eyes for a moment, wondering what was going through that head of his. Then he looked away. "No," he said quietly. "You're not."

There was a stack of paper on one of the guest chairs and Edward tried to keep himself from reading them, sitting in the other one. Military business was no longer his concern, he told himself. He didn't need to know.

He  _didn't need to know._

"So," Edward swallowed, "there's, er, a new contract or some shit?"

Mustang's lips tweaked upwards, as though he was going to smile but didn't. "Yes... or 'some shit.' It is as simple as revising some notes written by the late Jade Golem Alchemist." He indicated to the stack of paper in the chair and Edward felt himself release a breath he didn't know he was holding. "They are encrypted in a language few people around here speak... and you just so happen to be one of them."

Edward's lips thinned. "Xingese, huh?" he asked. "Okay. I'll look at them. Is it a fixed-term contract or...?"

"Two months," said Mustang. "That's your deadline."

With a nod, Edward said, "Easy. I'll take it."

"Excellent. Then I shall have someone drive you home with those papers. We can sign the contract later." The General pulled his feet from the table and leaned forward, staring into Edward's face. "So," he said, with careful measure, "how are you?"

"I'm fine." Edward was growing tired. "Look, Mustang, spare me the pleasantries. We both know this conversation's going to get a lot more unpleasant and you can't just gloss it over with a few sweet words."

Mustang look unfazed. "I wasn't trying to."

"Good. Then you can tell me about the newspaper."

The General remained perfectly pristine, bar for the whitening of his knuckles. "Yes," Mustang said, and was his voice  _shaking_ _?_ "Yes... Regarding the Chopper copy-cat..."

"I heard they attacked a little girl," said Edward quietly.

Mustang became abruptly, preternaturally calm. He was usually a very equanimous person but the way he looked now extended beyond simply keeping secrets. It was more like he was trying to keep control (or had already lost it). "It wasn't just any little girl, Edward, you understand," he said. Dread rose in Edward like a coup d'etat, threatening to devour him. "It was Elicia Hughes."

There it was; the sickness, the utter repulsion Edward had been keeping at bay, suddenly rushing up all at once. For a moment he thought he might be sick; then he clenched his fists and closed his eyes and tried to regain control. "Why? Why go after Elicia and Gracia?"

"They were walking home from the shop late in the evening." The General's jaw tightened. "Easy targets, I suppose."

Edward swallowed around the lump in his throat. "But they escaped?"

"Correction," Mustang said. "I saved them."

This was a revelation the newspaper hadn't cared to share - or, more accurately Ed supposed, wasn't allowed to share. It made sense that the General had saved them if he been involved in a battle such as the newspaper had depicted, but... "How?" Edward asked. Then common sense struck. "Oh. You were there."

It wasn't a question but Mustang answered, anyway. "Indeed. It just so happened that I was invited to dine with them that night and heard Elicia's crying as I got out of the car." The man looked like he needed a drink, thought Edward, perhaps a whisky that would blow his mind or a really good brandy. "I arrived in time to see them forced into a car - yes, I will share the license plate with you in a  _moment,_ Edward - and gave chase."

"On  _foot?_ You're fuckin' crazy..." 

The General's cool demeanour did not falter. "What else could I do? I had no time to get a car, and I couldn't risk losing them. I had to run. You would have done no less, Edward."

For Elicia and Gracia, Edward would have jumped off a cliff, no questions asked. "And what? You chased them for ten miles?"

Finally, Mustang's expression shifted, becoming heavier. Edward didn't know if it was a better look. "No. I chased them for five miles until I manged flip the car with a gas explosion."

"I -  _what?_ They could have  _died!"_

"I panicked, Edward." The General's eyes became hard, tense at the edges. "I didn't know what else to  _do._ I am not in my prime any more - any longer and he might have lost me. What would  _you_ have done, do you think? Transmuted a wall in their way?"

"No," said Edward, his voice small. "You know I can't."

Those hard eyes closed and Mustang looked regretful. When he looked back at Ed, there was no pity in his face, just forgiveness. "Yes - I'm sorry. That was insensitive. I am just... frustrated..."

 _Not them, too_ , Edward knew he was thinking. Ever since Maes Hughes died, Roy had wanted to protect Elicia and Gracia, even if it cost him his aspirations, his livelihood and his life.

"Yeah, well, serial killers are bastards." Edward shuffled in his seat, feeling worse for wear now (but not as bad as Mustang, he imagined). "We don't have to-"

Mustang sighed. "Yes, Edward, I'm afraid we  _do._ You need to know what you're getting into."

Edward stiffened, not liking the direction of the conversation. "What do you mean, what  _I'm_ getting into?"

"Edward," Mustang's voice was heavy, "I have made no secret of the fact I want to rejoin our ranks."

" _You bastard."_  Edward was almost speechless. "You utter, fucking bastard! Don't ask this of me!"

But Mustang ploughed on as though he didn't hear. "I need people like you on my team, Edward. You know I do. You're a talented alchemist-"

"Mustang," Edward's voice sounded crazed even to his own ears, "I'm not an alchemist anymore!"

"-and a trusted ally." Mustang looked Ed over - looked at the drawn shoulders, the bared teeth, the glint in his eyes - and he  _smiled._ "I can't do this on my own anymore."

"You _promised_ me - w-wait... What?"

It was a startling revelation. Hearing Mustang admit that he was struggling was surreal. Edward had never thought Mustang could show such weakness; the only side to him Edward had ever seen - apart from his smug, collected composure - was when he came face-to-face with Maes' killer, and even that hadn't been a cry for help. Something about it shook Ed deeply; if Mustang, the impenetrable Flame Alchemist, could demonstrate such humanity, then.... then...

"Edward, you and I made a great team when we got down to it. Remember the Hangley Case?"

Edward did. An alchemist had been trying to replicate Mustang's flame alchemy with disastrous consequences.

He didn't want to think about it.

"General," the title sounded so formal on Ed's tongue, and frightfully tired, "I have a family now." Did he? He had Winry, at least, and Churro.

Surprisingly, Mustang's face tightened, as though he'd forgotten. "Ah, yes, Winry." He tried to smile. "How is she doing?"

Edward's smile was genuine. "She's doing good. Business is crazy."

"I imagine," said Mustang. "She's a talented mechanic. Perfect for a genius of you calibre. And so I ask - do you not find yourself getting  _bored_ _?_ Civilian contracts are certainly a good way to get by but for someone like you to be stuck reading nonsensical notes by alchemists whose dreams surpassed the possible?" Mustang motioned at the stack of papers beside Ed. "Those are little but fragmented ramblings of a man's hope - nothing worthwhile. And yet you will dedicate yourself to translating it?"

It was scary how accurately the man actually knew Edward. Often, Edward forgot how close they had gotten while Edward was in the military. They had grown apart upon his leaving but Roy Mustang didn't seem to forget. He knew that family life bored Edward; that being on the run and travelling for so many years had changed something in him, perhaps broken it, and no matter how hard he tried he _couldn't get it back._

"I - don't think-"

"Well," said Mustang, "just think about it, Edward. I need you by my side; the higher I rise, the more I realise how few allies I actually have."

Edward didn't want to think about that, either. He tried to regain control of the conversation, leaving that sentence to hang in mid-air, and die. "So, er," he began again, "the fight. What happened?"

And Roy's face turned grave once more. "To put it simply, Elicia is traumatised and Gracia is in hospital with-" he closed his eyes "-burn wounds, but other than that they are fine. The Chopper escaped in the flames. I think they knew I wouldn't leave Gracia alone."

"Did they target the Hughes' on purpose?" asked Edward.

"I don't believe so, no. Just happenstance."

All right. That was okay. So long as The Chopper didn't return to finish the job, the Hughes' were safe and Elicia could heal. "Where is Elicia now?" Edward found himself asking.

"She's staying with Gracia's mother, under guard. I would have taken her in but-"

"But you're too busy." Edward felt his gut turn hard. "Fuck, Mustang. I knew I wasn't going to like what you had to say but  _fuck_. Fucking fuck fuck fuck _fuck!_ " Swallowing his pride (and the horror ascending his throat) he turned to the General. "I need a drink. And a goddamn good one."

"How about you meet me after work?" Mustang suggested. "I should be finished by five and I was planning to visit a pub that sells a very old and very particular bottle of whisky."

Edward snorted. "Sounds about right. Okay, count me in. I could do with knocking today out of my fuckin' skull."

Mustang smirked. "Come to me when you want to lose a week," he said, "and then we'll talk."

* * *

Edward left a note to let Winry know where he was going; she wouldn't be back for another half hour yet, and honestly Edward didn't feel like discussing his feelings (which, undoubtedly, she would want him to do). The walk to HQ, and the alcohol, would help more than him venting his emotions to her; he tried it before and it  _just didn't work._ A few shots or a wicked sparring session, though, and normally Edward would walk away right as rain. He wondered, sometimes, if he ever disappointed Winry by being so physical. If it did, he would try to make it up to her. He loved her too much to let something as simple as his communication issues get between them.

Speaking of - Edward thought back to his earlier conversation with Mustang, to the question he had asked.

" _Will you come back to me, Edward?"_

It had been his parting words. General Mustang was a smart man; he knew that if the last thing he did was ask Edward to rejoin the military, Edward would think about it all day long. And he had.

He'd thought about it too much.

Even when he was reading the Jade Alchemist's journals, trying to decipher the nonsense written in them ("Roy was right," Edward had bemoaned), he couldn't focus because those seven words circled in his head over and over like a starving vulture. It wasn't fair that something so weighty could be asked so eloquently, as though it were lighter than air.

"What are you doing to me, Mustang?" Edward muttered, just as the man in question came into sight. He was no longer in his uniform - probably wanting to avoid the attention - instead, he was wearing his plain slacks and coat, as always. The only thing that ever changed about Mustang was his rank - and maybe the way Ed thought about him changed, too. He hadn't ever thought Mustang would go from enemy, to commanding officer, to ally, to friend but he had and, in a way, Ed was glad for it. Not that he'd ever tell Mustang that.

"Managed to slip through Hawkeye's fingers, then?"

Mustang smirked. "Indeed. And you managed to slip your leash, too?"

"Winry is  _not_ -"

"Relax, Edward. I was joking." The General looked at him with humour. "We both have tough women keeping us in line, do we not?"

"Whipping us into shape, more like," Edward said.

Mustang laughed. It helped Ed relax; the day had been stressful, and it was a reminder that he was here to unwind. "Come on. The pub is only down the road. Have you eaten?"

"Concerned?" asked Edward.

Mustang gave a wolfish grin. "I'm just hoping you can hold your alcohol and I won't have to drag you back home like last time."

"You bet me that I couldn't take 10 vodka shots in a row," Edward said emphatically, "What was I  _meant_ to do?"

Mustang actually snorted. "Quite right," he said. "I don't believe you've ever shown discretion in your life, and you certainly weren't going to start then."

"Not with 20000 cenz on the line," Edward agreed.

It was a fairly cool evening, for summer's standards. Edward was still dressed only in his tank top and jeans (and his big leather boots that Winry  _hated_ _)_ and he felt perfectly comfortable in the evening breeze.

"Ah, here we are," said the General, and Edward was ushered into a pub called 'The Powder Monkey'. It was a bit of a grotty bar from the outside, he had to admit, but inside it was all low-lighting and plush seats.

"Fancy," Edward said. "Trust you to choose the most pretentious bar in Central."

Mustang shot him a look. "A pretentious bar that serves  _excellent_ alcohol. I promised you a good glass of whisky, didn't I?"

"A glass? You promised me a  _bottle._ "

"Well, we'll just see if you can handle yourself."

"Bastard," said Edward. "You know that I can."

Edward was no longer the the teenager he was when he was in the military. He was twenty-two now, engaged, and more importantly,  _the same height as Roy Mustang._ The man had to stop looking down on him; sometimes, he thought the General still thought of him as a kid.

The two of them settled at a table near the back of the bar. As Mustang went to go buy a bottle, Edward looked around, trying to calm his nerves; he felt comfortable around Mustang - trusted the man with his life - but he was worried that he was going to use Edward's lowered inhibitions to propose that he should join the military  _again_ , and Edward wasn't sure he'd be strong enough to refuse this time. The General was an incessant man and very persuasive, and as much as Edward bade himself otherwise...

He missed it. A lot.

"Here we go," said Mustang, looking smug as placed a tall bottle of whisky on the table, followed shortly by two glasses. "An 1815 single malt Que She. Distilled in Xing."

Edward sucked in a breath, startled. He looked from the bottle back to Mustang, feeling oddly touched. "How the fuck did you even remember?"

"You spoke fondly of your travels in Xing. Ever since your mentioning of this particular bottle, I have always wanted to try some. I finally managed to hunt down some down last week and put it on reserve..." Suddenly, Mustang looked hesitant. "It _was_ an 1815 bottle you had on your travels, yes?"

There was nothing Edward could do but laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, you got it, down to the last detail."

"I daresay I don't forget a good drink," Mustang said.

"Alcoholics never do," Edward quipped.

Mustang only smiled. "So, tell me, what  _did_ you do in Xing? You spoke often of its beauty and of your studies in their alkahestry but never of your personal affairs." He uncapped the whisky, looking at the glasses as he poured the drinks and not at Ed's face.

"They're called  _personal_ affairs for a reason." Edward took the glass he was offered, taking a sip, and was immediately thrown back into the palace with Ling, feeling, for a moment, hurt. "But it doesn't matter. I didn't do much. Went for Alphonse's sake, really."

Mustang hummed as he took a sip of his own drink - and looked very pleasantly surprised, indeed. "How is dear Alphonse doing these days?"

Edward shrugged. "Oh, you know. Getting roped into exhibitionism with a princess." He hid his grin behind another swig of whisky.

" _What_ _?"_ The face the General made was worth the nonchalant delivery. "Edward, is he  _really_ -?"

"Well, if Mei has her way, he sure will." Edward watched Mustang drink, inordinately smug that the man approved of the whisky. "It's a Xingese tradition for those of high stature to have sex in front of someone - usually a group - to confirm the marriage has been consummated. Alphonse hasn't even proposed to Mei, let alone touched her. I'm not sure he ever will."

"Why ever not? Mei seemed to be smitten with him, from what I saw of their relationship..."

"I think the ah," Edward cleared his throat, "the age gap thing. It's only a couple years but it freaks him out a bit 'cause she was only thirteen when they met. I think he still thinks of her as being that little girl, to be honest. He'll get over it. She's good for him."

Mustang seemed to understand. "Ah, I see. That is a tricky situation but Alphonse has a wise mind and a good heart. I'm certain he'll see past that eventually."

"I hope so." Edward downed the rest of his drink, indicating for the General to do the same. "Come on, old man, I wanna be pissed by nine thirty."

Mustang downed his drink, too, and began to pour two more. "Very well. It pains me to see such an expensive bottle of whisky-" Edward winced; he hadn't thought of that "-get obliterated by your insatiable thirst but, I admit, I need to... What was the phrase you used earlier? 'Knock today out of my fucking skull'."

Evidently, Mustang's day had not gotten better after their conversation had finished. Edward's hadn't either, so it seemed they'd be leaning on each other as they stumbled home, both as drunk as the other.

"I'll hold your hair back," Edward joked.

Mustang smiled. "That had better be a promise," he said.

They spoke for hours about Xing, and about how Mustang was finding the military these days. Edward hadn't ever mentioned that he had a dog before and the older man had found that revelation more hilarious than the story of Alphonse cross-dressing (which was just ridiculous, in Ed's opinion). It seemed to only take them minutes to finish the bottle, when in reality, it was nearing eleven o'clock.

"Churro?" Mustang was still laughing. "No 'Black Hayate', is it?"

"I didn't choose the fuckin' name, Roy."

" _Roy?_ _"_ Mustang raised his eyebrow. "Oh, so I'm Roy now, am I?"

"Yeah." Edward puffed up his chest, not wanting to admit the mistake he had made. "Yeah, you're fuckin' Roy, now, Roy, okay, Roy?"

Mustang held up his hands in retreat, eyes pleasantly fogged over. "Hey, I was just surprised. We've been drinking with each other since you turned eighteen and you've never called me  _Roy_ before."

Edward shrugged. "Stupid not to. You're not my CO anymore."

"That could be changed, you know."

Mustang was looking at him very intensely, the kind of way Edward had seen him stare at women he was trying to woo, and Edward groaned. "Fuck, old man, stop looking at me like that. I'm not some women you're tryna coax into bed."

"Near enough," Roy said.  _Roy._ "It requires similar amounts of flattery and persuasion."

Edward snorted. "You've still got a fancy mouth even when pissed."

"I believe that is what, as you so eloquently said, coaxes the women into my bed." Suddenly, Roy was grinning devilishly, hair falling in front of chestnut eyes. "Now tell me,  _Edward_ , what women have you coaxed into your bed lately?"

"Uh, my fiance, you fuckin' idiot," retorted Edward.

"Ah, yes, Miss Winry... Blondes are very feisty lovers."

Edward choked on his gin (they had run out of whisky, now). "I can't  _believe_ you're talkin' to me about this shit."

Mustang laughed loudly. "And why not? We're both adults, are we not? I confess, I'm intrigued by your relationship. Childhood sweethearts and everything. I can't say I've ever experienced something so pure."

There was a lump in Ed's throat, now, and he couldn't look Roy in the eye. "Ah, don't say that, Roy..."

From the corner of his eye, Edward saw Roy shrug. "It's true. I've never been in love with anyone, let alone been in love with someone through puberty." Roy smiled like a shark, and it  _hurt._ "What a ride that must have been."

"You bet. Cold showers become your best friend." Edward thought for a moment. "Maybe that's why I hate cold showers now. Huh."

"I bet you have a very active sex life now, after having suffered for so many years."

Edward shifted in his seat but nodded, thoughts lazy and glazed. "Oh yeah. She's a fuckin' beast."

"An active lover, hm?" Roy sighed wistfully. "Lucky for some. Most people I tend to bed are more than happy to let someone else do all the work."

Edward was a bit offended, although he knew (somewhere in the sober part of his mind) that it was misplaced. " _Hey_ , we take turns. I'm more than happy taking control, or relinquishing it, whatever makes her happy." He swallowed down the last few dregs in his glass, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Was with an asshole before who wanted me to take what he gave me but I'm not a one way street, and he wouldn't try it any other way. So fuck him."

For a moment, Edward wondered whether he shared too much but decided he didn't give a shit. He and Roy had shared worse things together - fuck, they'd both seen the Truth and they'd both been prepared to enter the jaws of oblivion with each other - so what did it matter, really, if Roy knew that once upon a time, he fucked a guy? Edward had been curious and ill-prepared to face the depth of his feelings for Winry, so he'd fucked off to Xing with Alphonse, and then he'd fucked Ling (he was sure there was some sort of play-on-words there but  _fuck_ , he was too drunk) and what did it matter if the only person that knew was Roy?

What did it matter?

Mustang, on his part, didn't seem surprised. "My first experience with a man was also extremely unpleasant. Similar, it sounds, to your own experience." Over Edward's shoulder, the staff were starting to clean up; it was a Thursday night, and they closed shortly. "I do believe it is time to make our exit."

"What?" Edward looked around. "Oh,  _fuck._ Winry's gonna have my balls."

Mustang shuddered. "When the Major sees me tomorrow..."

"I hope you live through it."

"Same to you." Mustang stood, wobbling on his feet, and he and Edward shared a laugh at his expense. "Well, clearly I am in no state to be left alone. Care to escort me home, _Edward?"_

"Idiot, you live like two blocks from me."

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "Is that a no?"

"No, you fuckin' bastard, that's a 'I have no choice." But the grin Edward threw his way showed Roy he was only kidding. "C'mon. I gotta go get my balls hung from the washing line."

"A most graphic fate." Roy steadied Edward when he stood, and the two began lumbering towards the door. "Take a picture for me, will you?"

Edward snorted. "No fuckin' chance," he said, and together they strode into the night, worries left behind in the bottom of an empty bottle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #authorwrotethisinsteadofsleeping #godsavemysoul


	3. Gracia and Elicia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confessssssion: I hate this chapter and found it excruciatingly hard to write, hence why you had to wait a week for me to upload it. Sorry!  
> Not beta read. Not proof-read. Completely naked!

Chapter Three

The hangover lasted not one but  _two_ days, in which time Winry made sure to huff innumerably and have her fair share of laughter. Edward had been thoroughly incapacitated, lying in bed for the entirety of the first day and spooning Churro on the sofa the next. Winry had, of course, taken a picture of that and pinned it proudly on the wall. Edward had threatened to burn it but Winry threatened to poison him in his sleep so, really, there was nothing he could do. (Although he was sure the likelihood of Winry poisoning him was much less than she seemed to presume but he didn't argue it because, well, he didn't want to be sleeping on the sofa.)

It wasn't until Sunday that he realised he hadn't thought of Gracia or Elicia once, let alone told Winry about them. Edward found himself discussing the topic with Winry that morning when she came home from the shops with a basket of fruit, smiling merrily.

"I thought we'd go and see Gracia today!" she said with cheer. "We haven't visited her in a few weeks now and I'm sure she'd be grateful for the company, don't you think, Ed? ...Ed?"

Edward's face had clearly betrayed him. He looked away from his fiance, licking his lips. "Winry," he started, gently. "Winry, you remember the paper the other day? About the woman that got caught in the attacks?"

Winry was silent for far too long. "Yes. What does that have to do with Gracia?"

Fists clenched, Edward continued. "And you remember that - that there was also a little girl?"

Of course, Edward understood now why he hadn't thought about it: he was worried about Winry. He didn't want her to feel as though she was so close to losing the only people she had left, what with Granny Pinako gone and Garfiel having moved to Creta the second Winry had finished her apprenticeship... There was only Ed and Al and Gracia and Elicia left, really, and if anything were to happen to them...

Well, something had happened. But at least they hadn't died. 

" _What are you trying to say,_ Edward?!" Winry cried. Edward realised too soon that he hadn't said that Gracia and Elicia were  _okay_ , that they weren't dead, that they were fine. "That-That Gracia... and Elicia..."

"Roy saved them," Ed blurted. "I mean - Mustang. He saved them." Looking her straight in the eye, Ed felt something like sorrow rise in his throat, and he managed a step towards her. "They're safe. Gracia's in hospital but Elicia's not hurt."

"Not hurt?" Winry was shaking, fruit basket hanging limply from one hand. "Edward, the poor girl is probably-"

Edward rushed forward the second he saw tears gather in Winry eyes and tugged her into his arms, basket dropping to the floor. She smelled like oil and cherry blossom and his arms tightened around her, feeling suddenly overprotective. The more he thought about it, the worse it got. The killer tried to attack Gracia and Elicia but... but... "We'll go see them," Edward whispered into her hair, trying to calm her shuddering body with soft, firm strokes down her back. "Gracia's in the hospital, and Elicia's bound to visit her at some point today. Let's go see them, Win."

Winry sniffled. Her arms slowly enclosed around Edward's waist. "Okay," she whispered.

"Okay," Edward agreed.

 _It could have been you_ , he was thinking.  _It could have been you, and I'm not strong enough to protect you anymore._

He wondered if Winry was aware of that little fact. Sure, Edward had happily given up his alchemy (quite glad to be rid of it) but after a few years without it, he was really beginning to notice its absence. Alchemy had been his entire life. It was something that, at the beginning, he used to make his mother proud of him. When she died and Edward performed human transmutation, it became his curse, his burden to carry, but also the key to saving his brother. Then, it became his way of life - no, it became his _entire_ life, the way he lived, breathed and survived. And then suddenly it went, just as quickly as he had discovered it, and for a while he was relieved. As time went on, he thought he would become more and more adjusted to this new way of living but instead he became leaden and itchy. Alchemy was now an abhorrent  _ache_ deep down in his gut, one that he couldn't shift.

Edward didn't know what to do with it anymore. He hadn't been able to ignore it for a long while now, and with each new day, he became more and more restless.

Winry couldn't know.

"Let me clear myself up," Winry said, pulling away from Edward's hug to wipe at her face. "I want to go right away."

"Right." Edward gulped. "I'll go get my coat..."

The fact was, Edward didn't want to see Gracia and Elicia. Well,  _no_ , not like that - of course he wanted to see them - but he didn't want to face up to what happened to them; if there was one thing he  _despised,_ it was other people in pain. If Ed had it his way, he would go out there and beat the copy-cat killer into submission - and then  _past_ that, until the killer was writhing in dark places where he begged and pleaded for mercy.

"Ready," said Winry suddenly, her cheeks still pink, eyes still puffy, but her jaw set determinedly. "Let's go."

They didn't live far from the hospital: a twenty minute walk in good weather. Edward suspected it would take them even less time that that because Winry was speeding ahead, almost running. He supposed he couldn't blame her... but with each step, he felt more and more unsettled; Winry kept glancing at Edward from the corner of her eye and Edward knew what was coming before it did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked. Was it anger in her voice, or resignation?

Edward couldn't meet her eyes. "I - forgot," he said.

Forgot about Elicia and Gracia? Forgot that Winry would care? Forgot  _what?_ Fuck, Edward, what is wrong with you...

"Right." Winry's fingers twitched and Edward closed his eyes, listening to the creak of the wicker basket in her hand as she tightened her grip around it. "When did you find out?"

Oh,  _fuck_ , Edward. "Thursday," he said, voice a bit strained. "Mustang told me."

"Thursday..." Winry whispered. " _Thursday?_ You've been in the house for two days without  _moving_ , and you didn't once think to tell me?!"

"Winry-"

"Forget it." They were at the hospital. Winry started climbing the steps, only looking back when Edward didn't follow. "It's fine, Ed, really. I just want to go see them. Come on."

The front desk was clear, and after providing names they were told the location of Gracia's room. Winry walked just in front of Edward, fruit basket in hand, hips in rhythm with her swaying hair. Looking at her, Edward felt both thankful and just plain  _shit._  She deserved more from him than last-minute conversations because he had gotten too drunk to even remember properly.

The hospital room was getting closer; down the hall, they heard the laughter of a little girl and Winry's hand tightened around Ed's. She looked back at him, blue eyes wide and shining.

"That's Elicia..." she whispered. "She's here..."

Winry was the one to push the door open; was the one to smile, tears in her eyes, and approach the bed. Elicia was sat in Gracia's lap and refused to move but Winry worked around it, taking both of them into a hug at once. Elicia giggled girlishly and Gracia smiled, tears suddenly flooding her eyes and spilling over onto her cheeks.

"I am so glad to see you, Edward, Winry," she said softly. "I-I had thought maybe you hadn't heard..."

Elicia squirmed in Gracia's lap. "Mamma, you're hurting me!" she said, pulling on Gracia's arms that were wrapped around her waist.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart."

Winry had taken a seat in the chair next to the bed; Edward himself hung back near the door, uncertain of what to do.

"I'm sorry, Gracia, I didn't hear until this morning." Winry lifted the fruit basket, her smile wavering in an instant. "I was going to drop this round to your house when Ed- when Ed and I found out."

So, she was going to lie. That was probably for the best, thought Edward; he didn't want Gracia thinking he'd forgotten about them, or that he didn't care... 

Edward stepped forward, suddenly feeling lighter than he had in hours. "Gracia," he said determinedly; she looked at him with surprise, "I swear to you, I'm gonna stop this guy. I'm gonna stop him before he hurts anyone else."

Winry said, " _No_ , Ed!" just as Gracia said, "Roy said the exact same thing." The two women looked at each other, conflicted.

When Elicia crawled over to the edge of the bed to sit closer to Winry, Winry's eyes softened and closed, and she had to look away. "Edward, I don't want you getting hurt... but... but..."

Gracia smiled. "No buts," she said. "If you don't want Edward involved, he won't get involved. Isn't that right, Edward?"

 _No,_ thought Edward,  _no, that's not fuckin' right. Let me fuckin' help, Gracia, God fucking dammit-_

He didn't say it. He just stared at the floor, giving a great big sigh under the weight of the eyes staring at him. "I don't want to worry you, Winry..."

"Then it's settled. Roy is more than capable-"

_I can't do this on my own anymore, Edward..._

"-of settling this matter himself. He-" Gracia paused, putting a hand on Elicia's head. "-He certainly proved himself the other day."

Gracia had burns on the side of her face, just below her ear and on her neck that no doubt crawled down the side of her body. Edward couldn't help but stare at them, thinking about what Roy must have done, how he must have felt when he overturned that car...

Elicia chirped up then, pulling her attention from curling her fingers in Winry's long hair. "Uncle Roy was like a superhero! He saved us from the bad man and got me Legos to play with Mamma!"

Winry gasped, evoking laughter out of Elicia with a few well-placed tickles. "Wow,  _Lego_ , really? I've love Lego!"

"Then-then-" Elicia looked from her mother to Winry, evidently torn between playing with her big sister and staying where she was. The kid was going to suffer with some seriously bad separation anxiety, no doubt about that. It hurt Edward to admit it. "Mamma, can I play Legos with Winry?"

"Of course, sweetie." 

Winry managed to get Elicia to climb down from her mother's lap, although the girl was clearly hesitant. Soon, however, she was sat side-by-side with Winry on the floor, both of them chatting sweetly to each other as they built nonsensical shapes. Edward, feeling awkward, shuffled on his feet and turned to Gracia slowly, reluctantly.

She smiled kindly at him. "You don't have to apologise for forgetting," she said.

Edward wanted to hit himself. "Of course you knew," he said, sighing. "How?"

"Roy was here yesterday to drop round some flowers," she nodded to the vase next to her, stuffed with beautiful, creamy plants (and of course Roy was that fuckin' elegant, thought Ed). "He said he'd told you what happened... Really, I think he only came to feel better. He is beside himself with guilt."

Next to Edward, Winry and Elicia were still playing, ignorant of their conversation - or appearing so. Winry was certainly listening in; and if Winry was listening in, there was a chance Elicia was too... Ed stepped around his guilty conscience and sat at Gracia's side, leaning in close and lowering his voice. "I don't blame him. What he did to get you outta that car was just desperation. He feels he owes you somethin', probably."

Gracia smiled. She was missing hair and the skin that was affected was no pretty picture but, really, she was lucky Roy didn't hit her eyes in that explosion. In some ways, Roy had done a really good job. Nevertheless, Gracia looked pained, remnants of her tears still on her face. "He doesn't. He saved our lives. Although Elicia... won't leave me be... She screams and cries whenever she has to leave and I think she's having nightmares..."

The girl in question was currently wrapping Winry's hair around some Lego, her little tongue poking out. She kept glancing their way, however, as though making sure her mother hadn't disappeared into thin air.

"Maybe," Edward gulped, "maybe Winry and me can take her home tonight. Give her something to look forward to. She loves Winry."

"That's a wonderful idea," said Gracia. "Only if you're certain, Edward?"

"Yeah. Sure. Why not." He regretted asking, a little. "How're you holdin' up?"

The sheets were crisp and white and rustled when Gracia winced and adjusted her pillow to be more comfortable. "Well," she started, "the first few days were the worst. The burns specialist couldn't see me for a long while because she had been sent out on an emergency, and consequently, I'll be scarred for the rent of my life. At least I'm alive." She smiled, and this one was less melancholy. "I think that's all Maes ever wanted."

And _fuck_ , thinking of Maes hurt too badly, even now. Edward had never been able to find closure over his death; but Gracia had, and still celebrated his birthday every year, each happier and better than the last. "Maes just wanted you safe," he said. He didn't say, _it's what got him killed._ "But - uh - Is there anythin' you need? I know I'm days late and stupid but I figure it's better asking late than never."

Gracia laughed lightly. "There's nothing you can do for me, Edward," she said. "But there is something you can do for Roy."

Edward tried to keep his voice soft, steady, quiet, but his heart was pounding to a common rhythm in his chest:  _please-don't-say-it._ "Oh, yeah?" he asked.

"Yes," said Gracia. "Roy needs you, Edward. He needs your support. I understand that you quit the military-" She said that quickly, as though she saw the panic bloom in his eyes _(and the way his hands shook not in dread but in... but in...)_ "-but perhaps you can be there in other ways."

Edward shoved his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, all right," he said. "I'll check up on him. And stuff." He sorta did anyway.

Gracia smiled again, that smile that reminded Edward of his childhood. Of sweet perfume and his mother's beautiful face. "Thank you."

There was a feeling clawing up his throat. His eyes were suspiciously hot. Edward turned away from Gracia to watch his fiance play with Elicia on the floor, both of their faces alight with joy, laughter bouncing off the walls and sinking into Ed's hardened skin.

"No problem," he said.

His hands were still shaking in his pockets.

* * *

 

It was an exaggeration to say Elicia happily went home with them but there was no kicking and screaming - not like Gracia had described. Apparently, the excitement of seeing Winry had worn her out, for she collapsed in Alphonse's bed straight after dinner and slept there solidly for hours.

In the meanwhile, Edward and Winry were sat at the kitchen before bed, sipping on orange juice and tea, respectively. Winry was staring at Edward, and Edward was staring at his hands.

"Ed," she said, softly, like she always did because she knew it made him weak. "I don't blame you, you know."

Edward shuffled, breath escaping him.

"I was angry this morning because I was worried... but I know that you're struggling right now. I didn't mean to-" She sighed. "I'm just sorry, Ed."

Shaking his head, Edward said, "You didn't do anythin' wrong, Win."

"Everything is going so well for me, and it's  _because of you_. Meanwhile, you're feeling lost and you don't know what to do with yourself - and you're  _wasted_ in this military contracting, Edward. You know you are. What's holding you back?"

He gulped. Thought about the way his hands shook. Buried said hands in his hair. "It's fine. I've just gotta figure out what I wanna do."

"Can I help?" she asked.

"No," he said honestly. Suddenly, Winry scooched closer to him, around the table, her eyes large and playful.

"Well then, if I can't help, maybe take your mind off it for a while?"

Edward watched her as she undid her jacket; kissed her when she kissed him; felt the passion stirring inside of him like kindling fire. " _Fuck_ ," he said. "This is why I love you. You know how to speak to me."

"You're a simple man," she laughed, and then they were kissing more, and touching more, and fucking against the table. When they were done, Winry wiped it down, and they went to bed.

Edward was the first to wake when they heard the screaming; he was on his feet and charging through the house before Winry had even sat up, barging into Elicia's room. "Elicia! Elicia, what is it? What is it, Elicia?

She was alone. A small ball, curled into the covers, surrounded by the oppressing blackness of the night. Edward flicked the light on and felt  _hate_ stronger than he had maybe ever felt curdling inside of his stomach.

"Mamma," she was crying. Her tears were flying everywhere, cheeks sore and red, voice hoarse. "Please, I wanna see Mamma, please..."

Edward was out of his element, but he  _tried._ He thought about what Al would do and sat next to her, absorbing her into a hug. "Shh... Elicia... it's okay. We can't go see Mamma right now, because she's sleeping in the hospital, and they won't like it if we wake her up. But - uh - is there anyone else you wanna see? Winry?"

Incidentally, Winry was stood in the door, tears welling in her eyes, hand at her throat.

"I-I wanna see Uncle Roy." Elicia was hiccuping and hyperventilating and crying, and it was such  _evil_ that would do this to a little girl. "Can we-can we-"

"Yeah, of course, of course. Win, you wanna come, or-?"

Winry was shaking her head. "I'll let the General know you're on you're way... I don't think he'd appreciate all three of us showing up."

Edward had to concur. "Okay, well-"

"Just go. I'll see you later."

 They walked - ran would be the better word - to Roy's, Elicia still sobbing, buried in Edward's arms. Winry had managed to get her to put a coat on but they were both still in pyjamas, and Ed's feet were turning to ice. He didn't bother being kind about waking Roy up; he banged loudly on the front door, probably hard enough to shake windows, but was rewarded by a very swift answer-

Although, the gloved hand in his face was a bit alarming.

"Edward?" asked Roy. He had wrinkles on his face from where he had been sleeping, and his eyes were foggy. Even still, he was pin-straight and alert, every muscle moving with him, all prepared to fight. His eyes widened when he saw Elicia. " _Elicia?"_

"Uncle  _Roy!"_ she sobbed. "Uncle Roy,  _please!"_

Roy immediately scooped her up out of Edward's arms, one gloved hand on the back of her head, the other tucked under he body. "Shh, Princess. It's all right. Let's get you inside."

He left the door open. Edward took it as an invitation and closed it after him - like fuck was he going to leave Elicia alone, anyway - then followed Roy into the lounge. "She's been havin' nightmares. Was sleeping at ours when she started screaming." He closed his eyes, trying to prevent the fury from enveloping him. "Asked for Gracia. Then for you."

"Princess-" There was that name again. Who knew Roy was good with kids? Like  _fuck._ "-Are you all right?"

"He-He-He took Mamma," she said, sniffling. Her cries had started to settle, but her voice was going, too. "He took Mamma again."

Face blank, eyes fiery, Roy pulled Elicia's head into his chest. "Princess, you know I'd never let them take you or Mamma again. Ever."

Like an outside looking in, Edward felt intrusive and unwelcome, so made use of himself instead by finding the kitchen and making some hot drinks. When he had nightmares as a kid, his mum always made him some hot chocolate and although he knew Elicia's nightmares (unlike his) were unable to be cured by a hot drink, he figured he couldn't hurt. He had just finished pouring the milk when Roy called for him.

"Edward?" he was saying. "Edward! How would you like to play a game of cards with Elicia and I?"

With one hand, Edward put the milk away; with the other, he gathered all the drinks. "Sure would," he called back. "And I made some hot chocolate, too."

When he got back to them, they were curled up beside each other on the sofa, Roy's larger body protecting hers. "A wise choice. Personally, I like mine with cinnamon.

"So does Al," said Ed. "It's fuc- I mean, it's good."

Roy laughed. "Indeed it is. Care to deal?"

"Gladly," said Ed.

Elicia didn't laugh once, and her face was gloriously pale and streaked with tears, but she did smile and finish all her hot chocolate, so Edward counted it as a win. Besides, he and Roy shared a good bottle of wine afterwards, and if Elicia's smile didn't make the trip worth it, well, that certainly did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm sorry if this chapter is extraordinarily shit. I had such trouble writing it, and did my best, but without a beta *shrugs* it's hard. Sorry for any mistakes, pacing errors, etc etc. As I said, this chapter was a bitch to write! But still, I hope you liked it (and I'm sorry you had to wait!)


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